All Quiet on the River
by VolcanicPizza
Summary: It is a time of unease. Fireheart is an ordinary warrior of ThunderClan, and never in his life did he ever think that his strictly neutral Clan would be drawn into any war. But, following the assassination of RiverClan's deputy by a BloodClan agent, every group in the forest is drawn into the war, and Fireheart will be called into service of his Clan. (AU)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I didn't have a lot of space to explain what's going on here in the summary, so I'll elaborate here. Basically, the Clans (the main four and SkyClan) have been given the approximate roles of five different major countries in our history (Russia, Germany/Austria-Hungary, France, England, and the USA), and Warriors history will play out beginning from a World War One analogue. Since this is an AU, SkyClan is still with the other four Clans and they all live in the forest, which is about twice the size as in real Warriors. The cats are still cats, and this is not a human AU.**

 **I apologize for this long author's note and hope it doesn't alienate any readers.**

* * *

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, RIVERCLAN-OCCUPIED TERRITORY**

 _I hate parades,_ Oakheart thought. _What's the point of sending me into this little strip of occupied territory to appease the rogues living here? There isn't one. They'll sit here cheering the procession of the deputy, and then the instant we leave they'll go right back to plotting against us and occasionally causing explosions._

But Crookedstar was the leader and also his brother, so even if he wouldn't do it for the leader he sort of had to do it because it was his brother. Sure, they sometimes fought, but Crookedstar's recent life had been pretty hard. His mate _and_ two of his kits had died, and it didn't help that the only remaining kit, Silverpaw, was quite rebellious. There was a reason her father had put her into training under the RiverClan Elite Warrior Corps.

In the depths of Oakheart's reminiscence, he didn't hear the shouting, nor the sudden, maniacal laughter.

All he knew was that he was suddenly flattened to the ground by one of his bodyguards. "What the hell?" he hissed, struggling upright just in time to see his other bodyguard, Stonefur, catch something in his teeth and throw it back into the crowd.

The explosion temporarily deafened the heir to RiverClan's leadership. Shielding his eyes from dust particles, he pulled himself to his paws.

"What the hell was that?" repeated Oakheart.

Mistyfoot, his other bodyguard, looked temporarily chagrined, and Oakheart realized too late that he hadn't thanked her for saving his life. He didn't have the time to apologize, as she began speaking before he could say anything. "It looks to me like some rogue independence advocates decided RiverClan could do without a deputy." she replied dryly.

"Yes, well, I could tell _that_." Oakheart replied. "But are you telling me that the local warriors didn't even bother to look for agitators?"

His ears heated as he realized that was a stupid question and that of course they had, and he shook his head. "Never mind. Let's just get to the meeting with the BloodClan ambassador already before somebody else decides it's time for me to go to StarClan."

* * *

"Scourge can't control the people." the black-and-white tom said to Oakheart in an even, friendly tone. "If they think Crookedstar is an idiotic fool who blatantly disrespects the rights of the rogues in RiverClan's occupied land, we cannot stop them from voicing their opinion."

Oakheart bristled. "Are you telling me that Scourge is such an incompetent leader he can't control his own citizens?"

Now it was the BloodClan ambassador's turn to bristle. "Scourge cannot lock down all BloodClan territory and wipe out all dissent so quickly as you seem to think he can."

"That is funny, Bone." Oakheart's tone grew cynical as he turned away from the tom to survey the crude map of the forest on the wall of the den. BloodClan was barely a fourth of the size of RiverClan. It would have been bigger if they hadn't completely fled the Twolegplace years ago. "We find it easy enough to stop antagonistic sentiments against our leader. What I think is the matter is that you cannot be bothered to try to cut down on anti-RiverClan feelings within your territory because, as long as their hatred is focused on something other than your incompetent leader, there will not be any internal revolutions to be had."

"That is enough!" Rage distorted Bone's features as he sank his claws into the soil. "You go too far now, Oakheart! Do you _want_ war between our Clans?"

Oakheart laughed humorlessly. "If it came to war, you know who would win."

"You don't think that SkyClan or WindClan would intervene against what they see as an enormous empire antagonizing a small rogue state?" Bone snarled.

"WindClan has been in a habit of losing wars since the War of 1218." replied the RiverClan heir. "As for SkyClan, they're a bunch of bird-eating surrender mice. Should push come to shove they will cave. Besides, after losing the River War forty years ago, do you really think that they'll be eager to lose any more land? RiverClan already controls both sides of the gorge, and I doubt they want us any closer to their camp."

Bone was visibly having to make a great effort to not annihilate Oakheart. "You will not get away with this, Oakheart."

Now the red tom's laughter was full of vitality. "I have the power of the largest empire in the forest behind me. BloodClan may be hardened by years of being forced to live with Twolegs, but you are small and weak. We outnumber you greatly, Bone, and should push come to shove we will not hesitate to crush you. Do be careful to remember that."

Striding out of the conference den, Oakheart fell into step between Mistyfoot and Stonefur.

"How did the meeting go?" asked Stonefur curiously. Although he had no doubt heard the exchange between the BloodClan ambassador and the RiverClan heir, he knew perfectly well how much trouble he would be in if he admitted this.

"Bone was most uncooperative." Oakheart replied, fixing his eyes on the well-trodden dirt path out of what had been the main rogue camp and was now merely one among many subjugated RiverClan camps. "He did not seem very sorry that we were not able to reach an agreement. I doubt he'll tell Scourge to declare war, though. He knows we can destroy BloodClan in a heartbeat."

Stonefur nodded in agreement, and his sister said, "Just like rogues, I suppose."

Oakfur let himself fall slightly behind the two bodyguards. _They have matured so much since I retrieved them from the cold snows on the ThunderClan border. I wonder if they would protect me even more fiercely if they knew that I was their father?_

Then he shook himself. _But Bluestar and I have come too far for anything to be possible, and I suppose that they will never know. It is of course for the best, but sometimes I cannot help but wonder..._

"Die!" he heard somebody yowl. Oakheart kept walking, figuring it was nothing: these rogues always dealt out such threats to each other, especially now when they were sunk in the morose depression dealt out by RiverClan occupation.

Then a rumbling sound came from the side. With a startled meow, Oakheart swept his head around.

Distantly he heard Stonefur and Mistyfoot yowling, and that was all as the flood of rocks buried him. The last thing the deputy saw before his eyes closed forever was a ginger tom standing atop a small hill, triumph blazing in his eyes.

* * *

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, THUNDERCLAN CAMP**

The sun beamed dully through the leaves above the surface of the ThunderClan camp. A ray of sunlight lit upon the pelt of a ginger tom who walked alone on the dirt path from the center of the camp to the clusters of dens outside.

"Hey! Fireheart! Guess what!"

The ginger tom spun around with a slightly startled meow, only to relax as he was nearly bowled over by the white apprentice. "Alright, Cloudpaw." he sighed. "Tell me what happened."

"Someone called me a dirty kittypet during training!" the apprentice replied indignantly. "Though Graystripe did praise me for not clawing his fur off..." he added.

"Who was it?" Fireheart's fur bristled. Ever since he and his nephew had come to ThunderClan, they had met with a great deal of anti-kittypet sentiment. Admittedly, they still had it better than the few half-bloods that there were, although ThunderClan was more accepting than the other Clans of both ethnicities.

"It was Darkstripe. He told me I wasn't fit to be training to enter the Warrior Corps," explained Cloudpaw, "because I'm a kittypet, and he also said that Bluestar made a great lapse of judgement in letting you become a warrior, let alone enter the Clan."

Fireheart's lip curled. "I doubt he'd say that to my face."

Nodding, Cloudpaw continued, "Brightpaw told him as much, although she got sentenced to picking out the elder's ticks for her support."

"Hey!" At the shout, both cats swung around to see a gray tom making his way towards them. "Fireheart, you're a terrible friend, you know that?"

"Who, me?" A slight smile formed on Fireheart's lips. "What'd I do?"

"You left me behind to explain to Tigerclaw why you were leaving patrol early." panted the tabby as he fell into step beside Firestar and Cloudpaw, "and _then_ I got stuck talking with the apprentices for almost an hour about some incident in RiverClan."

"Oh! I heard about that!" Cloudpaw's tail curled. "Didn't the deputy get killed by a rogue named Rock or something?"

The gray tom shook his head. "No, Brick was his name. I'd know _since I was stuck listening to the apprentices gossiping about it for an hour!_ " he growled, turning on Fireheart.

Fireheart sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about that, Graystripe, but I really had to use the dirtplace and Dustpelt wasn't being very considerate."

"You could've just asked Lionheart if you could go off to the side for a moment," Graystripe replied, anger somewhat sated.

"Are you kidding? He's one of the greatest warriors in the Clan, and everyone knows he's got a really good chance of being the deputy once Bluestar or Redtail bite the dust! You think I'm going to go up to a cat _twice my age_ who'll probably end up the _freaking deputy_ at some point in the near future and say, 'Excuse me, Lionheart, I gotta use the dirtplace.'" This was said in a high-pitched kit's voice. "'Can I nip off to the side and piss real quick?'"

Graystripe and Cloudpaw both stared at Fireheart and burst into laughter.

"Yeah, I don't think so." Fireheart reverted to his normal tone.

"I was actually laughing at something else." Cloudpaw wiped at his eyes with a paw. "You know how One-eye once said that Lionheart looks like Thunderstar? Well, I was imagining you asking Thunderstar if you could have a potty break and I just couldn't take it..."

"You're messed up, you know that, kid?" Graystripe said, bumping Cloudpaw with his shoulder.

"You honestly think I'd have the guts to walk up to the Father of our Clan and ask if I can use the dirtplace?" Fireheart shook his head. "I'm flattered by your confidence in me, Cloudpaw, but... no."

"How about we talk about something other than the dirtplace?" Graystripe interjected.

"What is there to talk about?" Fireheart shrugged.

"Oakheart getting bumped off?" suggested the gray tom.

"Come on, we all know what's going to happen there." Cloudpaw sighed. "RiverClan'll invade BloodClan and conquer them completely, execute their leader, what's his face..."

"Scourge," Fireheart prompted.

"Right, thanks. They'll execute Scourge and occupy the entire Clan." Cloudpaw shrugged. "A kit could see it."

"That's providing that SkyClan isn't drawn into the war on BloodClan's side." Graystripe ducked under a fern frond. "I mean, tiny Clan being attacked by a gigantic one, they'll be all 'Aah, we can't have this disturbance of power!' and attack RiverClan."

Cloudpaw scoffed. "Ashpaw said that SkyClan's going to be too busy eating random birds to intervene." He imitated a SkyClan accent. "'Oh, is RiverClan invading BloodClan? Well, we can wait to intervene until after we've finished eating these new birds we just got out of the Twolegplace.'"

"Yeah, well, eastern ThunderClan thought the same thing about Redstar and the West during the Civil War. But their slave-based Clan got overthrown in under five years, didn't it?" Graystripe winced as he remembered that Fireheart and Cloudpaw were both kittypets, but they didn't seem to notice. "Only StarClan knows what will happen next." he finished, hoping to cover up his slight blunder.

Fireheart glared at Cloudpaw, daring him to say something atheistic, but the apprentice seemed to understand that disbelief in StarClan was something you had to mask in this society.

"Well, here's my den block." Graystripe turned to face the other two. "See you around." Dipping his head, he walked into the entrance.

"You should get to the apprentice block." Fireheart told Cloudpaw. "You're probably going to have your assessment soon, you know, and you want to rest up for that."

"Really?" Cloudpaw bounced on the tips of his toes. "I'll be a warrior soon?"

"It's only an 'if' right now, but a very likely 'if.'" Fireheart grinned slightly, remembering his own anticipation as the end of his apprenticeship grew nearer.

"Great!" A wide grin split Cloudpaw's face as he rushed into the apprentice's den. The enraged squeak that followed a few seconds later suggested that he had stepped on one of his fellow apprentices in his eagerness.

Shaking his head, Fireheart continued on to his den block. Tomorrow promised to be a long day.

* * *

 **A/N:** **A note about the camps: They are arranged slightly like cities and are roughly three or four times the sizes of the canon camps. Ordinary warriors and apprentices live in dens set along trees along the exterior of the camp, arranged much like tenements, while those who are more important live closer to the inside of the camp. The leader's den is at the center and consists of several interconnecting dens where the leader and their family live. The deputy's den is about half the size and serves the same function, albeit for the deputy and their family.**

 **At the moment, the analogues are:**

 **ShadowClan: Russia**

 **RiverClan: Germany/Austria-Hungary**

 **ThunderClan: United States**

 **WindClan: Britain**

 **SkyClan: France**

 **BloodClan: Serbia**

 **Character analogues:**

 **Oakheart: Archduke Francis Ferdinand (Austria-Hungary)**

 **Tallstar: King George V (England)**

 **Crookedstar: Emperor Franz Joseph (Austria-Hungary)/Kaiser Wilhelm II (Germany)**

 **Bluestar: Woodrow Wilson (USA)**

 **Nightstar: Tsar Nicholas II (Russia)**

 **Leafstar: Georges Clemenceau (France)**

 **Scourge: Peter I (Serbia)**

 **Brick: Gavrilo Princip (Serbia)**

 **Thunderstar: George Washington (USA)**

 **Redstar: Abraham Lincoln (USA)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'd like to clear one thing up: Not everything here is going to be exactly analogous to our timeline's WWI, which is to be expected considering, well, cats and stuff, and the adaptations I've been forced to make to fit the Clans into national roles.**

 **Guest: I thought it would be great juxtaposition to have BloodClan, of all minor rogue groups, to be placed in Serbia's position. I did consider using Jingo's group from Sunset as Serbia, but then I came up with the idea of using BloodClan, and I just liked the idea of putting these vicious, bloodthirsty cats in that position.**

 **Fennelwhisker: To answer your nitpicks: I decided to anthropomorphize the cats less in some areas for realism and more in other areas (for instance, saying hell, freaking, and piss) to let the analogues flow more easily. Or maybe I just wanted that scene with Graystripe, Fireheart, and Cloudpaw last chapter. That I'll leave up to the reader's interpretation.**

* * *

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, SHADOWCLAN CAMP**

"Nightstar!"

The leader of ShadowClan turned around to see Runningnose standing at the door. "Runningnose, come in. What brings you to my den?"

"Sir, it's..." Runningnose was silent for a moment. Then, "It's Oakheart of RiverClan. He's been assassinated."

"Oh? Do tell?" Nightstar replied coolly.

"He was entering one of the rogue camps in the southern occupied territory of RiverClan to meet with the BloodClan ambassador, Bone." Runningnose continued. "The meeting didn't go well, from what our spies can tell. Knowing that, along with the oppression RiverClan has been forcing on its occupied territory, it's no suprise Oakheart was crushed by a boulder minutes later. Apparently it was pushed down by a member of Scourge's private guard, Brick, and he's currently at large."

"This will almost certainly lead to war." Nightstar mused. It was to Runningnose's credit that he didn't shame his leader for pointing out the obvious, merely dipping his head.

"What about the other Clans? How are they taking the news?" Nightstar's eyes fixed on Runningnose's, and the gray tom dropped his head.

"They have all extended their condolences, sir, although ThunderClan seemed to mean it more than the other Clans. Also, WindClan sent an ambassador to SkyClan recently." continued the medicine cat. "We are not certain, but it was likely to refresh the alliance between the two Clans and prepare for war."

"We would do well to follow their example," the black tom noted, "as doubtless we will be drawn into this war should it escalate any further. Prepare our warriors in case RiverClan makes a preemptive strike on our border. Are there any other issues?"

"W-well, there are some cats up in the northernmost territories that are publicly considering overthrowing you, sir." Runningnose shifted on his paws. "We managed to capture one of their couriers. We don't know precisely who their leader is, but from what we could squeeze out of the courier they're led by two former rogues and an unidentified cat."

"They won't amount to anything. No matter their boldness, they won't dare overthrow their leader. Ignore the reports and execute the courier." Nightstar curled in his bedding and tucked his tail over his nose.

"I... As you wish, my lord." Soft pawsteps followed, indicating the medicine cat's departure.

* * *

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, NORTHERN SHADOWCLAN**

"This meeting shall come to order!" the white tom snapped, casting his gaze around the den.

"There are only two of us here, Blackfoot." noted the other cat in the room. "I hardly think that this could be considered a meeting."

Blackfoot shrugged. "You know I prefer to keep things formal."

"All too well." The dark tom's expression was guarded. "Well? Has Nightstar made any more idiotic blunders?"

Blackfoot shrugged. "I guess his execution of our courier instead of pressing him for more information could count as that? Asides from that, no."

Silence.

"What about the brewing war?" asked the tabby.

"Well, RiverClan is preparing for a full-out invasion should BloodClan not agree to its terms. Crookedstar is really torn up over his brother's death, you know."

The tom blinked, as if grief were an alien concept to him.

"What do you suggest we do?" Blackfoot asked at last.

"Wait." replied the tom. "We wait for Nightstar's regime to overextend itself. He can't run a war and stop the populace from rising up at the same time, and at that moment when he tries to anyway we strike, topple him, and instate a new leader to preside over ShadowClan."

Blackfoot nodded. "That does sound logical... Just don't think that you'll be instated in such a position. You already fled from ThunderClan after a failed coup against your leader and are reviled throughout that Clan. Do you think that ThunderClan would accept your coming to power?"

Tigerclaw shook his head. "I understand, Blackfoot." Inside his head, it was a different story. All he could think was, _I will not let this dung-eating rogue take power from me! I will lead ShadowClan to victory, and none will stand in my way! I will eliminate all those I feel need eliminating, and not even Bluestar will be able to stop me!_

But even as he was thinking these wild, seditious thoughts that would have had him executed by his fellows had they known, his mouth moved again and he heard himself say, "I will not seek power within ShadowClan after the revolution."

"And don't you forget that promise." Blackfoot nodded.

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, RIVERCLAN CAMP**

To Hawkfrost, the concept of not being loyal to one's Clan was alien. How could you betray the ideals your Clan was based on and join another one, knowing that you were turning your back on the cats who had housed you and fed you and raised you throughout your entire life?

Hell, Hawkfrost wasn't even RiverClan by birth and he understood that. His mother, Sasha, had been a rogue in one of the smaller groups RiverClan had snapped up in the 1390s. He and Mothwing, his sister, had just been kits then, and after Sasha left them he quickly understood the true meaning of this world:

 _Kill or be killed._

Being raised under the great empire of RiverClan, Hawkfrost had fit perfectly into the militaristic, authoritarian model that had been set out before him from kithood. Like every other cat in the Clan, his greatest aspiration was to attain a high rank in RiverClan's elite warrior corps, and he would gladly sacrifice himself for the good of the leader's family.

Now he stood silent as dirt was piled on top of the fallen deputy. His body had apparently been grotesquely mangled by the boulder, and as such hadn't been shown to the crowd which had gathered to mourn the passing of the heir to the leadership.

Hawkfrost was fine with that. He could live with that.

What he couldn't live with was the knowledge that Oakheart's death had been caused by a BloodClanner.

As the hole was filled with dirt, Hawkfrost was also filled with something: a desire for vengeance, a desire to set things right again.

"We will avenge this," he muttered under his breath. "We will crush BloodClan and any other Clan which dares defy the rights of the master Clan to destroy inferiors."

He was not the only to make a vow like this, and the air around the graveside was filled with muttering.

Above, the flag of RiverClan fluttered in the wind, a stark red with blue slashes through it to represent the river. Now, in the mind of the dark tabby, they represented the marks of vengeful claws as they scored their way through the necks of any who dared stand in the way of his Clan.

"This will be avenged," he repeated, a little louder. Again, he was not the only one.

The sky darkened.

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, THUNDERCLAN**

Seeing as he was Cloudpaw's mentor, that meant that Fireheart had to educate him on everything he would need to know to become a warrior. That, unfortunately, included history.

"There was little to do after the capture of the rebel's camp in early 1371, and most of them surrendered following this." Fireheart didn't enjoy history in general, except for one part: the ThunderClan Civil War; the time when cats who could have been his ancestors were freed from servitude to Clan cats and allowed to either seek their fortunes within the Clan or return to the homes they'd been taken from. "The only major figure who evaded capture was Mapleshade, and her forces continued guerilla resistance well into the 1380s."

Purring in contentment, Cloudpaw batted at a loose branch on the ceiling of his den.

"After the surrender of Duskleap, Redstar went to-" Fireheart broke off in irritation. "Cloudpaw, are you even listening?"

"Hmm?" Cloudpaw's head snapped up. "Uh, I..."

Fortunately the white apprentice was spared from being forced to admit that he had no idea what his mentor's question had even been by Whitestorm poking his head through the door. "Fireheart, Bluestar wants to speak with you for some reason. She didn't tell me why, but from the tone of her voice I gather that it is urgent."

"Okay. Thanks, Whitestorm." Scrambling upright, Fireheart left the crowded dens to head outside.

His paws padded softly against the path, sending up small clouds of dust. The walk wasn't far, and before he knew it he found himself at the Central Dens.

Longtail stood at the entrance. As he saw Fireheart approaching, he snarled, "What do you want, kittypet?"

Obviously he was itching for a fight. Fireheart, however, was not in the mood for one. "Bluestar wants to see me." he replied.

"What would she want with a kittypet?" Longtail wrinkled his nose.

"I don't know." replied the ginger tom wearily. "That's why I'm here."

"Longtail, let him in." This commanding tone came from Lionheart as he shouldered his way out of the den. "Hello, Fireheart," he continued in a more pleasant tone. "The leader is expecting you."

Blinking gratefully at the older warrior, Fireheart stepped hesitantly into the den.

 _This'll be the first time I've actually had a conversation with Bluestar since I was her apprentice..._ Fireheart thought. _I ho_ _pe I don't mess this up badly._

The sunlight beamed coldly through the bramble screening away the sky, giving him no response as to his future.

* * *

 **A/N: More analogues:**

 **Runningnose: Grigori Rasputin (Russia)**

 **Tigerclaw: Josef Stalin (Russia)**

 **Blackfoot: Vladimir Lenin (Russia)**

 **Duskleap: Jefferson Davis (USA)**

 **Mapleshade: Nathan Bedford Forrest (USA)**

 **Hawkfrost: That's a secret for now. Suffice to say it will be quite the plot twist once it is revealed. Until then feel free to guess.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm really sorry about not updating for two months, but I do have a life and other fics to update.**

 **Guest (1): And Stalin!Tigerstar works even better when you remember his path in true history. As for Hawkfrost, you're on the right track.**

 **Guest (2): Nightstar isn't a villain, he's really just a bit more incompetent. All of your assumptions about Hawkfrost are wrong.  
**

 **H: Golly, that'd sure be something, wouldn't it?**

* * *

 **I have a final piece of information for y'all:**

 _ **Don't expect the same side as in our history to win.**_

* * *

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, BLOODCLAN CAMP**

Scourge shrugged angrily at himself. So what if RiverClan had all but declared war with the recent action since the death of their deputy? It was a foregone conclusion at this point. Not content with oppressing the various rogue groups now under their domination, they now sought to bring their occupation into BloodClan proper.

 _From what Bone told me,_ mused the black tom, _Oakheart was purposely trying to escalate the situation. Crookedstar wouldn't be stupid enough to try something like that- he knows enough of diplomacy for that. In the end, Oakheart was just administering the_ coup de grace _to BloodClan-RiverClan relations._

A courier raced into the room, almost tripping over his own paws in his eagerness to deliver whatever news he had. "Scourge, sir!" he panted as he skidded to a halt in front of the BloodClan leader. "I bring news!"

Scourge twitched his tail impatiently. "Go on, then."

"Nightstar has pledged to aid us in any future conflict with RiverClan, and has already started mobilizing on the border."

Scourge nodded. "I expected as much, considering our predominant heritage. I doubt the senile fool will be much help, considering he can barely put down a Vitalist revolution in his own territory, but the sentiment, I suppose, can be appreciated."

"Shall I send a message back, sir?"

"Tell ShadowClan's leader that I am grateful for his support. I have nothing more than that to say."

The courier nodded again, and raced out the door, bumping into another courier as he entered the room.

"What is it?" Scourge growled at the new courier. From his nervous twitching, his information was of much greater significance than that of the first.

"Sir!" The cat saluted with his tail. "RiverClan has just declared war on our Clan!"

Ice ran through Scourge's veins. "They dare bring their filth into my land?" he hissed. "Well, then! Let us descend!"

* * *

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, RIVERCLAN CAMP**

When Hawkfrost heard that war had been declared, his first move was to race to the nearest military assignment station. He wasn't the first, and the line stretched halfway through the camp.

The sun was nearing its apex when Hawkfrost finally reached the station. The old brown tom who was running it peered shrewdly at him. "Your name?"

"Hawkfrost." replied the dark tabby.

"Hmm..." The tom peered at his notes. "Right. You've been assigned to the River Front on the ThunderClan border."

Hawkfrost narrowed his eyes. "As far as I know, we're not at war with ThunderClan."

"Not yet." corrected the tom. "But Bluestar's always been a friend of Tallstar, so it's quite likely that if ThunderClan enters the war it will be with WindClan."

"Bluestar was also a friend of Oakheart." argued Hawkfrost. "A strong military presence on their border might be enough to alienate them when before they would have stayed neutral."

The assignment cat narrowed his eyes. "Be very careful what you say next, Hawkfrost. You're veering very close to treason."

Conceding, Hawkfrost turned from the recruitment station. _Still, a position on the ThunderClan border might be exciting. Who knows? It might be just what I need for my life to go in the right direction._

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't hear the yowling until it was right behind him.

A ragged, ginger tom raced past Hawkfrost, and seconds later he was overwhelmed as an enormous mob raced around him, snarling, "Get him!"

Hawkfrost focused on the tom in front of him and realized for the first time that this was Brick.

 _The cat that killed Oakheart..._

Hawkfrost surged forwards and managed to get to the head of the mob. Brick was slowing, his sides heaving, panic in his eyes.

With a single leap, Hawkfrost caught the tom and bowled him over on his side. Spittle fell from the assassin's mouth and landed on the dirt path.

"Why?" hissed Hawkfrost, shaking Brick violently. "Why did you kill him?"

Brick's mouth moved, and he managed, "For... my people... to be... free..."

And then the mob swarmed all around him, slashing out at the assassin, taking chunks of ginger fur with them. Hawkfrost joined the game, slicing his claws into the cat.

Brick made no sound, and as his sides heaved slower and slower Hawkfrost lashed out again and tore out his throat.

* * *

 **GREENLEAF, 1419, THUNDERCLAN CAMP**

"Fireheart?" Bluestar raised her head as the ginger tom stepped uncertainly into the room behind her. "Come in, please."

Fireheart set his foot down carefully, dry, old moss crunching underfoot. With no small shock, he realized its age, and thought, _How long has Bluestar been neglecting herself, worrying over this conflict?_

"I want to hear your judgement on the new war between RiverClan and BloodClan." Bluestar meowed placidly.

"Me?" Fireheart was startled. "Why do you want to know what I think?"

"The opinion of every warrior is valid," replied the leader, "and as such, I wish to do what the warriors would prefer."

Fireheart shrugged. "Well, opinion seems to be equally divided. As for me, I think we should remain neutral in this war for now, unless we're given a reason to enter it."

Bluestar was silent for some time, so long that Fireheart began to worry that she had fallen asleep, until she looked back up and meowed, "That seems to be the general consensus among the warriors. For now, ThunderClan will remain neutral. You may leave, Fireheart."

Dipping his head, Fireheart slipped out of the room. His heart was pounding. _ThunderClan may be neutral for now, but how long can we be the only major power to stay out of this war?_

 **A/N: Next chapter will be longer, I promise, and introduce a bit of a plot twist.**


	4. Finis?

**Hey. Got some serious talk here.**

 **It's been a while since my last update, I know. I'm well aware of that.**

 **Look, the fact is, I've got a lot of fics running right now, and I don't know how long I can maintain them all before one just... slips away.**

 **I'm not saying that I'm discontinuing this. Instead, I have something for you to do.**

 **If you want to see what happens next, please tell me. If someone- even if it's only one person- wants me to continue, then I will. Otherwise, I guess this'll become a Dead Fic.**

 **That's all I have to say.**


End file.
